


Life Vest

by LadyFogg



Series: Angel with a Shotgun [12]
Category: Constantine (TV), Hellblazer
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Language, Mild Mistress/Pet, PTSD, Sexual Content, Smoking, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 07:18:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6508210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyFogg/pseuds/LadyFogg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After literally crawling out of your graves and finding yourselves back home, you and John struggle to leave the past year behind you. Just when you think there's finally time to rest, fate decides to be a real twat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life Vest

**Author's Note:**

> Fic Song: https://play.spotify.com/track/6rBH8yFMyktE85o6ioRkYp
> 
> Angel with a Shotgun Soundtrack: https://play.spotify.com/user/ladyfogg/playlist/1pD6QM7S1ROeTDNiBdjY5d

 

You awaken with a gasp.

It takes a moment for your brain to catch up. As you slowly come back to yourself, it’s clear you’re laying down. But where? Something is digging painfully into your back. Right, your shotgun. Aside from that, whatever you’re laying on is soft, almost like a mattress. The air around you is hot. Not Hell hot, more like stuffy-hot. You wait for your eyes to adjust to the darkness. When they don’t, you know something is wrong.

Your first thought is that the dark energy must still be covering you, so you reach up to touch your face. It feels normal, which means it’s not the energy. You’re stuck somewhere without any source of light. Feeling around, it only takes a few seconds to realize that you’re surrounded by walls of some kind. You try to sit up but end up smacking your forehead.

Hysteria sets in and you activate your light rune. You wish you hadn’t. It’s a coffin. You’re in a fucking coffin.

 _Don’t panic, don’t panic,_ you tell yourself. Of course, you’re well on your way to panicking. You can’t feel John anywhere, and it’s then that you remember the First took the connection away. You don’t even know if John was sent where you were sent.

You can break the lid of the coffin with the help of one of your runes, but if you’re underground that’ll bury you alive. If you can cover your face so you don’t inhale dirt you should be able to dig your way out. In theory. You’re still exhausted and drained from Hell. It’ll be slow work. You try to keep your breathing even and slow as you wriggle around, trying to remove your jacket.

It takes awhile to twist out of the piece of clothing, but once it’s off, you manage to tie it loosely around your head.

Not wanting to waste any more time, considering you don’t know how much air you have left, you activate the strength rune on your right arm. Thankfully you have enough energy to. Your arm pulses with temporary strength and with two hits, you punch a hole in the lid of the coffin. Dirt immediately falls on your head, but you push it off and down towards your feet.

You keep going, the strength rune making it so you don’t tire easily. You’re able to pull yourself into a sitting position, pausing only a few seconds to try to catch your breath. It’s not really possible with the dirt and the jacket surrounding you, so you keep going.

Digging out is tedious. Your one goal is to push the dirt as far down as you can, eventually maneuvering yourself completely out of the coffin. When your hand finally breaks through the surface, you’re tired, shaking and sweaty.

The air is cold and only fuels your drive to free yourself. A warm, rough hand closes over yours before the dirt starts to loosen above you. You can hear a muffled voice and though you don’t know what it’s saying, hope swells in your chest. You fight harder to break free, the jacket coming untied and sending dirt into your face. You try to shake it away.

“Lola?!”

John! It’s John’s voice you hear! You get your second hand free and he stops digging to grab both. With a large pull, John drags you out of the grave.

Gasping, you wrestle the coat off your neck. John’s face is suddenly right there and he’s wiping dirt away as he rains kisses across your cheek.

Disorientated, you try to make sense of your surroundings. You see trees all around the both of you and another grave to your left. This one looks destroyed. John must have had to escape as well. You can only imagine the spell he used once he realized what was going on.

“Lola? Love, say something,” John urges, taking your face in his hands and forcing you to look at him. “Are you with me?”

“John?” you nearly sob, throwing yourself at him.

John’s body relaxes with relief. “It’s alright, love,” he assures you, hugging you back just as tightly. “Home. We’re home now. Look.”

He’s right. You can see the Mill house as clouds move, revealing the full moon.

“Sky!” you exclaim loudly, hitting John in your excitement. You point upwards. “The sky, John!” You let out a bark of laughter and glance at John.

He gives you a smile. “And stars,” he comments.

You give a whoop of joy and tackle him backwards. That gets a laugh out of him. He holds you tightly, raining more kisses across your face. You’re too busy looking up at the stars to reciprocate.

“Man,” you say. “What does it take to kill us?”

John’s laugh echoes throughout the woods. “We got lucky,” he says. “I’m surprised he sent us back. _Why_ did he send us back?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. A cool breeze washes over you and you can’t help but smile. “We’ll figure it out.”

You tear your eyes away from the sky to look down at John. You’re surprised to see his sad expression.

“It’s gone,” John says in a soft voice. “The connection. He took it. I can’t feel you anymore.”

Smile fading, you lean down to press your forehead to his. “I know,” you say, relief leaving you as you’re reminded of what you’ve lost.

“I feel…” John begins, trying to find the right words.

“...incomplete?” you offer.

“...empty.” John corrects.

Your heart sinks. You place a hand on his cheek. “I love you. Even without the connection.”

His smile is small, almost like he doesn’t quite believe you. A clap of thunder makes both of you look up. Normally you’d be pissed. Considering the year you just had, however, you’ll take it.

“Yeah sure, why not?” you grin.

Fat raindrops start to fall fast. The feeling is so wonderfully refreshing, you roll off of John and onto your back, letting the rain hit your face.

Next to you, John flops backwards into the dirt. “Bloody hell. Never thought rain could feel so good,” he exclaims.

You giggle and he echoes the sound. Soon you’re both cracking up uncontrollably until you can barely breathe. Rain is falling all around, but you and John are too busy basking in the high of yet another near death experience.

“Come on, love,” John eventually manages to say, sitting up. “Let’s go clean up.”

“And eat,” you add.

Now completely and thoroughly exhausted, standing is rough work. When you finally do manage to get  on your feet, you both lean on each other for support. Hands linked tightly together, you trudge through the mud towards the Mill house. At the door, John fishes around his bag for the key, but you stop him.

“I have a better idea,” you say. You’re not ready to go underground so fast. Besides, going back into that house would only mean having to face reality and you want to avoid that for as long as possible. “Next town over. Hotel. Big comfy bed, fluffy towels, huge shower…”

“...restaurant, bar,” John lists. “I love the way you think, Lola. Lead the way.”

Your car is still there with the keys in the cupholder. However, as you and John climb in, you remember his attempt to stop you from following him to the hellmouth. Heart sinking, you check under the wheel. Luck seems to be on your side since the ripped cords are nowhere to be found. In fact, your car actually looks clean.

“Chas’s handy work,” John says, noticing as well. “I suspect the graves were his doing too. He probably hung around for awhile waiting for us to reappear.”

“Do you want to call him?” you ask, putting the key in the ignition.

“Later,” John sighs, reclining the passenger seat all the way back. “Right now I wanna stop for some ciggies, then grab a posh room with my best girl and do dirty things.”

You laugh. You doubt any dirty things will be happening tonight. You escaped Hell and just dug yourselves out of your own graves. Sleep is more important than sex.  

An hour later, you’re pushing open the suite door. Turndown service had already stopped by and the soft lights make the room look ten times more inviting. Once John locks the door behind you, you strip to nothing. You feel disgusting and want a shower more than anything in the world. However, the room has a balcony and you can’t help but throw open its doors. You stand in front of them in all your naked glory, letting the cold spray from the rain wash over you. It’s absolutely freezing, but there is no way you’re going to complain. You hear the click of John’s lighter before the smell of smoke wafts past you.

“Bloody marvelous,” John all but moans.

You glance over your shoulder at him. “You really should think about quitting completely,” you say.

John rolls his eyes, cigarette dangling from his mouth. “Doctors have been going on about me quitting for years,” he says, shrugging out of his coat and letting it fall to the floor. “Fit as a fiddle I am.”

“Except for the exhaustion, malnourishment and who knows what else we have,” you say.

John takes the cigarette out and exhales. “You still look plenty good to me,” he purrs, fixing you with a smoldering look.

You smirk and shake your head lovingly. “Shower and food,” you say. “Then sleep. No frisky business.”

“Maybe a little frisky business?” John asks hopefully, removing his dirty and ruined clothes. He looks like a damn puppy. You hate when he gives you that look, which of course he knows.

“Maybe,” you concede. “If you’re good.”

The room spins slightly and you feel light-headed as you turn to close the balcony doors. You even sway a little, but John doesn't seem to notice. He’s too busy walking over to the small table in the corner in search of the room service menu.

“Didn't realize how late it is,” he says. “Restaurant is closed. But good news is that room service is twenty-four hours. What are you craving?”

Unfortunately, you’re at that point where you’re so hungry that food sounds gross. Not eating would be a stupid thing to do, however. “Nothing too heavy,” you tell him. “We need to start slow. Don't want to make ourselves sick. I do know I want something with chicken. And potatoes. And cheese.”

John chuckles at your rambling, but the sound fades when he glances over at you. “Love, are you okay?” he asks. It seems he's finally noticed you aren't moving.

“Dizzy,” you tell him. “Still.”

“Lola, you’re shaking,” John says worriedly. He puts the menu down and pulls one of the chairs away from the table. “Come here. Sit for a minute.”

“No, no, I'm fine,” you assure him, braving a few steps towards the bathroom. “I need to shower.”

“What about eating?” John asks.

You give him a wave of your hand. “I’ll eat after. It’s going to take awhile for the food to arrive anyways.”

“You sure you're alright to be in there on your own, love?” John insists. “You know I can't sense if you need me.”

“I always need you.”

John's face breaks into a bright smile. “That’s nice to hear.”

“I'll call you if I need help,” you assure him.

With a sigh John crosses the room to pull you into a tight hug. “I thought I lost you,” he says in a low voice, almost as if he’s afraid someone besides you will hear. “Fucking hell, Lola, when I woke up in that coffin, I thought…”

You hold him close. “I know, me too. It's okay. I'm here. We're here. Together.”

John pulls back, pushing your hair away from your face so he can kiss you properly. “I don't want to lose you again,” he says.

“You aren't going to lose me,” you tell him. “Promise.”

John gives you a smile and a content sigh. You give him another peck before slipping out of his grasp. He’s still smiling when you close the door to the bathroom.

The light is almost too bright with all the white tile. Squinting, you wander over and turn the shower on. While that heats up, you decide to bite the bullet and look in the mirror. You look absolutely terrible. Your face looks sunken in and your cheeks aren’t as full as they used to be. Your hair is in desperate need of a cut. It reminds you of when you were brought back from Heaven. You tear your eyes away from your reflection and climb into the shower.

The hot water feels better than sex. The jets hit your sore muscles, making you practically melt. For a few minutes you stand completely still, letting the dirt, soot and sweat of Hell roll right off your body. Soap never felt so amazing. You scrub yourself as thoroughly as you possible can. By the time you’re clean, you’ve expended your remaining energy.

You sink onto the floor of the shower, leaning against the tile wall. You close your eyes and just bask in the fresh water running over your head.

You don’t realize you’ve dozed off until there’s a knock on the door.

“You alright in there, love?” John calls.

“You can’t make me get out,” you throw back.

You hear his laugh when he opens the door. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Was only checking up on you,” he says. “And I have to use the loo.”

You shake your head and try not to pay attention while he does his business. It’s easy, since you’re still so focused on the amazing shower. Part of you knows you and John should probably go to the hospital to get yourselves checked out. But having only recently lost your healing ability, you don’t forsee any large health issues or concerns. You’re drawn out of your musings when you hear the toilet flush. John’s footsteps draw closer to the shower. A cool breeze makes you crack your eye open and look up. John smiles down at you from around the curtain.

“Too tired to stand?” he asks.

“Nailed it,” you say. “Join me?”

“No need to ask me twice,” John says, sliding in with you. He drops down next to you with a sigh. “Let’s just sleep here tonight.”

You giggle. “Probably not the best idea,” you say as he rests his chin on your shoulder. “Though, it’s very tempting.”

John shifts around until the water is hitting him directly. His moan is borderline obscene. “And I thought the ciggie was amazing.”

“Who knew fresh, hot water could be so wonderful?” you ask. Your legs are starting to cramp so you extend them and try to stand. “Help me up.”

Once you’re both on your feet, you hand John the soap. You watch him clean himself, but it’s not with any sexual desire. It’s purely admiration, and disbelief that somehow you’re both still alive.

John rinses himself off and you step up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Mmm, lovely,” he hums with appreciation. “Now just slide your hands down a little lower.”

“Ruined it,” you scoff, pulling away.

John turns to you with a smile, drawing you back to him. “Later then,” he says. “Food should be here soon anyways.”

It’s your turn to let out an obscene moan. “Fuck yes,” you say.

“I should put a call into Midnite,” John says.

Funny. Not exactly the person you would think John would care about contacting. “What for?”

“The connection,” John explains. “If anyone can get it back for us it’s him.”

You can’t help but let out a tired groan. “John, please,” you beg. “Baby, we just got back.”

“Lola, we need to strike now if we want to restore it,” John insists.

You feel something you haven’t felt in a long time. Worry, for John’s sake. “Do we need to?” you ask. “We got on without it before.”

His expression is unreadable. “I take it you don’t want it restored,” he says in a carefully guarded tone. His feelings are hurt.

You sigh. “It’s not that,” you tell him. “I’m just saying, take a day. Let’s just be Johnny and Lola tonight. Please?”

John makes a noise of reluctance, but then you lean into him, placing a few kisses along his collarbone. Instantly he softens against you. “Alright, love,” he says in a rough voice. “I think we’ve earned a break.”

“You stay here and enjoy the water,” you suggest. “I’m going to wait for the food.”

“Don’t you want to help Johnny get clean?” he grins, nipping at your neck.

“I’m pretty sure by ‘clean’ you actually mean ‘dirty’,” you say, untangling yourself from his wandering hands. “And food is at the top of my priority list tonight. I’ll pass for now.”

“Suit yourself,” John says teasingly, watching you climb out. “I’ll just have to handle it myself then.”

“Have fun with that,” you say. “Think of me.” You blow him a kiss.

Grabbing a towel from the rack, you dry yourself off thoroughly on your way into the bedroom. You don’t feel like putting on clothes just yet, so you wrap yourself in the fluffy bathrobe you find in the closet.

The room almost feels too constricting, despite the large size. You go to the balcony doors and open them again. It’s almost like you can’t really believe there’s an outside world. You never gave the sky much thought until you found yourself without it. Leaning against the door frame, you stare wistfully at the stars. The rain has stopped, but the breeze still brings in the smell. You inhale deeply and hold it for a moment before exhaling. Outside it’s quiet. Until you hear a dog bark loudly in the distance. The sound makes you jump and for one wild moment you think a hellhound is coming. You don’t even realize you’re holding a fireball until the smell of smoke tickles your nose.

Extinguishing the flames, you clench your hand into a tight fist and force yourself to take a few calming breathes. You’re not in Hell. You’re home. There aren’t any hellhounds coming for you.

A knock on the door makes you spin around, hands raised in defense.

“Room service.”

Cursing yourself for being so jumpy, you lower your fists and tighten the robe’s sash. You cross the room, scooping one of your knives up from John’s bag and tucking it into your sleeve along the way.

The room service attendant is polite when you answer the door. He greets you warmly, but you’re too on edge to do more than give him a weak smile and his tip. He pushes the cart into your room and leaves with a bow. You make sure to lock the door when he’s gone. Your eyes are drawn to the cart and your paranoia is forgotten when you see all the food John ordered.

He really ran with your idea of chicken, potatoes and cheese. There’s grilled chicken, fried chicken, chicken tenders, french fries, mashed potatoes, roasted potatoes, a full cheese platter and countless types of vegetables. You chance a glance at the bottom rack and find bowls of fruit and a large bowl of chocolate mousse. The man knows you well.

“So much for not overdoing it.”

“Hey, he just wants to give you all your favorites.”

You look up to find Zed standing on the balcony, smiling.

“Zed!”

Before you can stop yourself, you’re rushing to her, arms flying around her neck in a tight hug. She hugs you back. “Knew you guys couldn't be dead,” she says proudly. “Where did you end up?”

“Hell,” you tell her. “Shitty, shitty, Hell.”

Zed pulls away. “How did you escape?” she asks.

“Technicality,” you tell her. “Too exhausted to get into details.”

Zed’s smile fades. She takes a step back to study you with her ethereal eyes. “You’re different,” she says. “Your energy. It’s changed.”

“We lost the connection,” you tell her, dropping on the bed.

Zed takes a few careful steps forward, head tilted to the side as she continues to study you. Her hands come up, almost like she’s feeling the energy. “Hell really did a number on you didn’t it?”

“Let me ask you something,” you say, leaning back on your hands. “Have you ever heard the term ‘touched by Heaven’?”

Zed halts her movements, eyes flickering up to meet yours. “Where did you hear that?” she asks.

“John,” you answer, sitting up. “He said I was touched by Heaven. Now, I take that to mean I’ve been to Heaven and back. But I think it’s more than that. Otherwise, technically speaking, he’d be touched by Heaven too. So. What does it mean?”

“It means you have a destiny,” Zed says.

Nope. Not what you want to hear.

“No, no, no, no, no, no,” you say, shaking your head. “Nope. No destiny. Not me. Done. Done with all of this crap. Did enough for the world.” You look up towards whatever entity may be watching. “You hear that? I’m okay! I’m done. Thanks but no thanks.”

“Lola, destiny chooses us, whether we like it or not,” Zed says. “We can shape it, but we can't escape our fate. Also, do you even realize how much you sound like John? It’s actually pretty scary.”

“That’s what happens when you’re in someone’s life for nearly five years,” you respond with a shrug. “And when you’re stuck in Hell with only them.”

Zed smiles softly and seems to be contemplating her next words. “Being touched by Heaven is a rare thing,” she eventually says. “And whether you like it or not, you’re already on the path to your destiny.”

You frown at her words. “Can you not? Enough cryptic speak for me thanks,” you say. From the bathroom, you hear the shower turn off. “You going to say hi to him?”

“Sure, if for no other reason than to see the annoyance on his face,” Zed says with a smirk.

“Hope you’re not eating yet,” John calls loudly. “I tried to take care of the situation myself but as you can see, little Johnny wants--” He enters the bedroom, naked say for a towel around his waist. A towel which looks ready to be whipped off. However, as soon as he sees Zed he stops dead with a groan. “Bloody fucking hell. How did you know?”

“Hello to you too, John,” Zed says. “You’re looking terrible.”

John snorts with disbelief. Shaking his head, he crosses the room to come stand by your side. “Sod off,” he snaps at the angel. His skin smells wonderfully clean and you can’t help but lean against him for comfort. His hand moves to absentmindedly stroke your hair.

Zed stares at John for a second before looking back at you. “Huh...” she says.

You glance up at John and the two of you share a confused look.

“What?” he asks. “Why are you looking at us that way?”

Zed looks right into your eyes and for some reason, your heart begins to beat wildly. You feel a strange sensation in your stomach and it’s so startling you can’t help but place your hand on it.

“Look if you’re not going to answer, then you can just--” John begins.

“Don’t worry, I’m leaving,” Zed cuts him off. “I just wanted to check on you.”

You have to look away. You can’t stand to make eye contact with her anymore.

“Right as rain, we are,” John says with a mocking smile. “Now, if you’re so inclined, we paid for this room and we’d very much like to use it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you would,” Zed says. “Call me if you need me.”

When you chance a look in her direction, she’s gone. You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you eventually let it out. John kneels down in front of you, concern etched on his tired face.

“Lola, you’re shaking again,” he comments, running his hands up and down your arms comfortingly. “Love, what’s the matter?”

You give him a weak smile and reach out to stroke his cheek. “Hungry,” you say.

John smiles back leaning up to gives you a sweet kiss. You cradle his face carefully, losing yourself in the gentle pressure he applies to your mouth. When you pull away, he bites his bottom lip, eyeing you like you’re the most delicious treat. “Well then,” John says. “Let’s eat.”

You laugh. “The fact that you mean actual food is pretty hilarious,” you say.

“Innit?” he asks with a smirk. His towel falls to the floor as he reaches into the duffle to grab a pair of underwear. He yanks them on and nods towards the cart of goodies. “Come on, my love.”

You allow him to drag you to your feet and take a seat at the table. John loads up a plate of food and places it in front of you. “Enjoy,” he says, before placing a kiss on the top of your head.

And you do. There’s no talking as you and John dig into the food you’ve been so desperately needing. You take your time, not wanting to make yourself sick. But John doesn’t seem to have that problem. He shovels forkful after forkful until his plate is completely clean. It feels so good to eat again that your stomach starts to cramp a little. After you’ve had enough of the heavy stuff, John places the bowl of mousse between you. With a smile he hands you the spoon before taking one himself.

“You know,” John says, scooping up some of the chocolate treat. “Before Zed showed up, I was worried this was a trick by the First.”

“Same here,” you say. You dig into the mousse, moaning loudly for the thousandth time since you got to the hotel. “Mmm, fuck me sideways that’s good.”

“That can be arranged, love,” John tells you. “Great big bed, chocolate dessert…”

You give your spoon a lewd lick and watch John’s eyes follow the movement. Unfortunately, the yawn you can’t manage to stifle sort of ruins the image. John finds it hilarious. He chokes on his mousse, dropping his utensil so he can grab a napkin.

“Shut up,” you mumble sleepily, putting down your spoon.

John wipes his mouth, then pushes away from the table. “Off to bed with you,” he orders.

You slump back in your chair, full and ready to pass out. “Carry me,” you demand.

He rolls his eyes but gets out of his chair. He bends over you, giving you the chance to fling your arms around his neck. Gingerly he scoops you up. He brings his face close to yours, gently headbutting you. “I like having you in my arms like this,” he admits.

You smile sleepily, nuzzling his face. “Let’s do it again sometime,” you mutter.

John carefully carries you over to the bed and places you down. Once you’ve shrugged out of your robe, you burrow under the comforter. Meanwhile, John drags his chair over to sit by your side.

“You’re not tired?” you ask.

“Aye, I am,” John says with a nod. “But you had your blade in your hand the entire time you were eating. Which means you’re more on edge than I am. So, I will let you rest first.”

“You going to watch over me? We don’t need to sleep in shifts any more,” you remind him.

“I know,” John says. “But you know what they say about old habits.” He picks up a cigarette, but pauses when he sees the face you’re making. “What?”

“Inhaled enough smoke to last a lifetime,” you say.

John sighs but reluctantly puts it down. “There. Happy?”

“Only with you, baby,” you tease.

He smiles and leans down to place a kiss on your lips. “Sleep tight, love,” he says. “Johnny will watch over you.”

You’re asleep before he even draws away.

The next time you open your eyes, the early morning sun is streaming in through the balcony doors. It’s feeble, but the fact here is sun at all makes you smile. You’re no where near rested, however a sound to your right makes you realize why you’re awake.

“No...no...stop…” John mutters in his sleep. He’s still sitting on the chair, twitching and jerking with whatever nightmare he’s trapped in.

Shit, that’s the real reason he didn’t want to sleep. He was afraid to.

“John. John! Baby, wake up,” you call in the calmest voice you can manage. He is so lost in the nightmare, he doesn’t hear you. Easing yourself out of bed, you slide onto his lap. The second you do, he jerks awake with a gasp.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m here,” you coo, wrapping your arms around him. “Baby, you’re safe.”

John clings to you tightly, face buried in your cleavage. He doesn’t try to move or say anything. You can feel his heavy breathing against your skin. After a few minutes you climb back onto the bed, pulling him with you. He follows willingly, sliding under the covers into the warm spot you had just vacated. His arms circle you tightly.

“They had you,” comes his low voice.

You drape yourself across his chest, trailing your fingers through his chest hair.“Who?”

John exhales heavily, eyes focusing on the ceiling instead of you. He’s lying eerily still. “The orderlies at Ravenscar.”

A chill washes over you and a knot settles in the pit of your stomach. “John, you don’t have to tell me more if you don’t want to.”

“Lola,” John says. “You’ve let me get away with far more than I deserve. You should know. I want you to know.”

You mentally prepare yourself and place a comforting kiss on his shoulder. “Okay,” you say. “What happened at Ravenscar?”

It takes John awhile to answer, and when he does, his voice is void if all emotion. “At night, when it was dark and I was alone,” he explains. “Some of the lads took it upon themselves to dole out their own brand of justice.”

You swallow the bile that fills your mouth. “They attacked you?”

“Repeatedly.”

You see red. “I want names.” Anger takes hold of you instantly. As soon as you have your strength back, you’re hunting them down.

John sighs heavily. “That was years ago,” he says. “Don’t waste your time.”

“John--”

“Lola, I didn’t tell you this to feel sorry for me, or so you could seek revenge,” he insists.

You cup his cheek, making him look at you directly. “Then why did you?”

John sighs and rubs his face tiredly. “I don’t know,” he admits with a shrug. “Figured it was out there thanks to the First.” He turns onto his side, forcing you to slide back onto the bed.

You press a kiss to his neck. “I’m sorry you felt forced into telling me,” you say. “But thank you for sharing. I know that wasn’t easy.”

He gives you a pointed look when you don't say anything else. Oh. Now you see. It wasn’t just about sharing his past with you. He wants answers himself.

That pisses you off. “You’re a dick sometimes, you know that?” you say with a glare.

“Oy, why?”

“You didn’t share that information because you wanted to,” you accuse. “You did it so you could get your own answers.”

“Now that’s not entirely true,” John insists. “But since we’re on the subject…”

“There’s really nothing to tell,” you say. “Home life sucked so I ran away as soon as I turned eighteen. Haven’t looked back since.”

John doesn't seem satisfied with your answer. “That's it?”

“What do you want me to say, John? Sometimes there isn't one reason. Sometimes it's all the little things. Sometimes you learn you're surrounded by toxic people, so you remove yourself from that environment. Sometimes the explanation is that simple.”

You don’t want to fight. You’re still drowsy and John looks like he’s going to pass out at any moment.

“We’ve discussed all sorts of things the last year,” he says hotly. “Except your life before me. Before Nyla.”

“Wow,” you say. “The First really got to you, didn’t he?”

John scoffs. “That’s not--”

“He so did!” You exclaim. “He actually got into your head.”

“And he took our connection,” John responds angrily. “Sent us back with a cryptic message and a promise. Made us crawl out of our own graves. Forgive me if I’m a tad wound up.”

He's looking for fight. Normally you'd take the bait. But you're too emotionally drained. You're not going to bite this time.

You sigh. “We need more sleep,” you tell him. “I don’t want to fight with you. Can we just not do this right now?”

It’s his turn to sigh. He runs a hand over his face. “You’re right,” he agrees. “I’m sorry for snapping.”

“It’s fine. Fuck knows I’ve done it enough to you. Kiss me and you’re off the hook,” you say.

John’s face lights up and he smiles. His hands runs up your bare thigh before tugging you closer to him. He kisses you deeply, tongue playfully tracing your bottom lip until you let him in. After a few more lazy kisses, John pulls back.

“Let’s sleep,” he sighs, snuggling closer to you. “For days.”

You snicker and try to get comfortable. John falls back to sleep before you do. In fact, after a few moments, you find yourself more awake. You let some time pass before you slide out of the large bed and pull on a pair of fresh underwear. Throwing on a clean shirt, you  cross to the balcony once more.

Zed appears next to you. “You’ve changed,” she comments.

“We both have,” you respond. “A year in Hell will do that.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Zed says.

“Then enlighten me, oh holiness.”

Zed is quiet for a moment. It’s a pause you recognize quite well. “Do you remember what happened about a week before the hellmouth?” she eventually asks.

“You’ll have to be more specific,” you say.

“You bought something,” Zed says, turning her head to meet your eye. “Something you tucked away in your drawer so John wouldn’t find it.”

“Oh. Yeah. That.” You glance over your shoulder at John. He looks still asleep, but he could be faking. You can’t tell for sure anymore. “Wait, you know about that?”

Zed raises her eyebrow. Of course she knows.

You purse your lips together, watching the sunrise intently. It really is beautiful. Even though there are clouds. “Why are you asking about the--?”

Zed is gone. You’re talking to empty space.

Dread washes over you as you’re left staring at the rising sun.

\---

Unfortunately, you can only stay in the hotel until the early afternoon. After a quick stop into town, John takes you to lunch. It’s a small place, but according to him, the burgers are amazing.

“So,” you say after the waitress takes the menus. “This is what a date with John Constantine looks like.”

The man in question sits across from you looking less like a runaway hippie and more like his old self. During the trip to town, he had visited a barber shop for a haircut and proper shave.

“Told you I would take you on one, didn’t I?” he says with a smirk.

The table they sat you at is on the patio, so of course John lights up. You don’t try to stop him this time, even though the smells makes you nauseous. The sun is warm and amazing. You close your eyes and try to bask in it. John smokes quietly, only breaking the silence to cough occasionally.

“You should get that check out,” you comment.

“What’s that, love?” John asks.

“Your cough,” you say. “Been happening for awhile.”

“I’m sure it’ll go away on its own,” he says. “How are you feeling? Any dizzy spells?”

Thankfully, after two proper meals and several hours of sleep, you don’t find the world spinning constantly. “No, not today,” you say. “Still tired as fuck. Slightly hungry and...off.”

“Yeah, it does seem surreal,” John admits. “This lack of connection is driving me insane.”

“Funny,” you chuckle. “When we first got it, we were driven insane as well.”

“It’s lonesome,” John says. “I’m so used to feeling you here with me. But now, it’s just my thoughts. My feelings. I don’t like it.” He pouts.

You smile lovingly. “I know, baby. I know.”

He extinguishes his cigarette and reaches across the table. You place your hands in his.

“But we’re alive,” John points out.

“Yes we are,” you agree.

The sound of breaking dishes nearly makes you bolt from your chair. Immediately you seize the knife on the table. John’s hand ices over. However, nothing attacks. You look around to see a waiter bending to pick up the tray he dropped.

Exhaling slowly, you put the knife down. John lowers his hand. You both share a look.

“We’re okay,” he assures you. Or maybe himself.

“Just an accident,” you say, forcing yourself to focus on your breathing again. Your stomach churns. “I’ll be right back.”

“Lola?”

“Bathroom. One second.”

As quickly as you can, you hurry to the women’s bathroom. You barely make it to the toilet in time for your breakfast to come back up. Once you’re done vomiting, you lean heavily on the stall wall trying to calm yourself. Eventually you shuffle over to the sink.

“You okay?” Zed asks, appearing behind you.

“Peachy,” you growl. You rinse out your mouth. Zed says your name and you meet her gaze in the mirror. “No, Zed. Just...no.”

“When you get home,” Zed says. “You know what to do.”

You spin around to tell her off, but find yourself face to face with an old woman.

“You alright, honey?” she asks.

You sigh. “I wish people would stop asking me that.”

John is bouncing his foot nervously when you get back to the table. “Everything okay?”

You hold in the sigh of annoyance. He doesn’t deserve it. “Anxiety,” you tell him. “Better now.”

Awkward silence falls over the both of you once you take your seat. Why did you think you could do this? Why did you think you could come back from Hell and just go out to eat like a normal couple? You and John have never been normal and you sure as fuck won’t ever be now.

“Maybe this wasn’t the best idea,” John admits. “Going out in public right away, I mean. We can’t come back from Hell and pretend all is well.”

“Then let’s not,” you say. “Let’s not pretend. Shit happened to us. Terrible shit that we won’t ever be able to forget. We both know we’ll never be completely okay. So, no bullshit?”

“Agreed,” John says. “I guess the real question is, where do we go after lunch?”

“Probably back to the Mill house,” you say. “We need to get more clothes and cash, and as much as I don’t want to be go back underground, being away from people actually seems okay right now. At least until we aren’t on edge so much. I say we go home and break in our old bed.”

John smiles. “I’ll go where you go, Lola,” he says. “To Hell and back again, if necessary.”

You smile lovingly. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” you say, raising your glass. John does the same and you toast to each other. Your stomach is still sensitive and you find you’re not as hungry as you were before. Until the waitress brings your burger. Then you’re ravenous. John clearly is too as he takes the biggest bite he can manage. Lunch goes by quickly after that. You’re both are so busy consuming the food in front of you, everything else just fades in the background.

Once you’re done eating, John wastes no time flagging down the waitress for the check. The drive back home is silent. John smokes, while you focus on the road and try to ignore the sense of dread that has been with you since you saw Zed. Pulling up to the Mill house isn’t as hard as you thought it would be. After the overstimulation of the restaurant and everything else, you welcome the familiar sight. John unlocks the front door and you steel yourself before following him inside.

It looks exactly the same. A bit more dust than before, but it’s almost like you never left. Though you suspect for the most part, the Mill house doesn’t change too much. You and John stand at the top of the stairs, taking a few seconds to adjust to actually being back. Once you both are recovered, you make a mental note to find a new place to live. A warm, comforting place with lots of windows.

Without a word, John takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom.

There is a weird tension between you that you can’t quite place. However, the solemn moment is broken when John pushes open the room door. “What happened to the headboard?” he immediately asks.

You chuckle, coming to a stop at the foot of the bed. “You fucking handcuffed me to it,” you tell him. “I told you that I shot myself free.”

John removes the cigarette from his mouth. “It’s bloody destroyed!” he says, moving over to the dresser. “We’re going to need to get a new one.”

“Well now you know not to leave me behind,” you say. “It was worse than this. Chas must have cleaned it up.”

“Speaking of, I should call him,” John says, extinguishing his cigarette in the ashtray. “Let him know we’re okay.”

“Cell phones are dead and probably cut off,” you remind him. You sit on the bed and kick out of your boots before flopping backwards with a sigh.

John makes a face. “Right,” he says. “I’ll use the land line. Be back.”

You watch him leave, waiting until you’re sure he’s out of earshot before you spring into action. You bolt to your chest of drawers, pawing through your clothes rapidly in search of the box you hid there over a year ago. Once you find it, you hurry into the bathroom and lock the door. Heart hammering in your chest, you open the box and turn it over, letting the pregnancy test drop into your hand.

You stare intently at it for a few moments, mind racing.

Magical protection had been implemented well before you met John, once you learned it was a thing. You were broke and without insurance, so it was a no brainer really. But with the energy strains in Hell, it’s very possible the spell failed. And condoms had run out fairly early on.

Ten minutes later, you sit staring at the stick, mind completely focused on the two blue lines that just informed you life will never be the same.

“Shit,” you whisper. “Fuck. _FUCK_.”

You have no idea what to do. For the first time in years, your mind is blank. Until the memories of your Heaven come rushing back and you find yourself crying. Whether it’s from happiness or fear, you have yet to determine. The anxiety you feel is very recognizable however and you find that you can’t look at the test anymore. You shove it into the box and throw both in the trash. Flushing the toilet, you get to your feet and pull your underwear and pants back up. Without hesitation, you grab the trash bag and tie it close.

 _Gotta hide it, gotta hide it,_ you repeat to yourself. However, just as you step out of the bathroom, you hear the sound of John’s footsteps. Not wanting to deal with him asking questions, you drop the bag on the floor and kick it under the bed.

“Well, Chas gave me an earful,” John announces, strolling into the room and removing his trenchcoat. “Wanted to jump on a plane. Told him it wasn’t necessary but…” He pauses, giving you a curious look. “Lola? Why are you staring at me like that? You still feeling ill, love?”

“I’m fine,” you say, quicker than you meant to.

John gives you a look, dropping his coat on the dresser next to the ashtray. “I don’t believe you,” he chuckles. “Come on,” he crosses the room and slides his arms around you. “Tell old Johnny what’s wrong.”

_Tell him. Tell him. No don’t. Not yet. Wait. Wait until you know for sure. You’ll only freak him out._

For the first time in twenty-four hours you’re glad you no longer have the connection. Because he would definitely be feeling the emotional roller-coaster you find yourself on.

“It’s just...” a lump forms in your throat. You can’t think of a good response.

“Being back here?” John supplies. “No big surprises waiting for us?”

_Well..._

“That’s part of it,” you say carefully.

“I know,” John purrs, leaning in close. “Being back in this room, with our bed, all big and empty.” He takes a few steps backwards, pulling you with him.

Despite the storm swirling inside, you smirk, letting him pull you onto his lap as he sits. Always sexual with him. While it can get tiresome, this time it provides a wonderful distraction, even though it’s entirely the cause of your new situation. John’s hand slides under your shirt, bringing you out of your distant thoughts. Your smile fades when his hand casually rests on your stomach. He has no clue the significance of his actions. But you do.

“John,” you say, clearing your throat. “Do you ever think about the vision the Jinn made you see?”

“No, not really,” he says. “What I do think about is ravishing my gorgeous lover.” His answer is textbook John Constantine deflection, complete with the kiss he’s currently leaning in for. So you do some deflection of your own.

“Where do you see us?” you ask, drawing away. “Not in general. As partners.”

John studies you for a moment, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Thought you didn’t want me to make plans for us,” he says.

You had a feeling those words would come back to bite you in the ass. “Didn’t stop you before,” you point out. “Besides, that was when I didn’t think we’d escape Hell.”

“And now?”

“Now?” you repeat. “Now, there are...possibilities.”

John ponders your words for a moment. He absentmindedly rubs the back of his beck. “Lola, I’m not going to lie,” he says. “I don’t bloody care where we go or what we do, so long as we do it together.”

His words make your heart beat wildly in your chest.

“There’s still the First to watch out for, mind you. He was way too smug for my liking. But I told you when we decided to do this that I will catch you. Connection or not, I’m yours for the taking, love. If you’ll have me.”

You have to kiss him to stop yourself from getting emotional. He clearly doesn’t mind as he slips his hand into your hair.

Your lips part, leaving you panting heavily. “Do you want me to take you, John?” you purr.

“Bloody fucking hell, for the love of god, yes,” he babbles.

You chuckle. “Okay, I know your mind went to the dirtiest scenario it possibly could, but I’m not feeling that ambitious today.”

“Well that’s unfortunate,” John says. “I quite like the idea.”

“Yeah, I can tell. You feel ready to burst out of your pants,” you growl, leaning in close. “How about, I handcuff you to what’s left of the headboard and ride you until you pass out?”

John whimpers with a furious nod. “Yes, please,” he begs.

You practically slink off his lap. “Strip.”

He scrambles to follow orders. John’s bag sits at the foot of the bed where he had dropped it when you first walked in. You reach down and pull out the handcuffs he had bought you for your birthday. Dangling them from one finger, you fix John with a smoldering look. His pants are already pooled around his ankles and he’s working out the knot in his tie as fast as he can. You drop his bag on the floor and wait patiently for John to finish undressing.

Once he does, you give him a rough shove, forcing him onto his back. “Yes, yes, Johnny likes very much,” he grins.

 _He needs this,_ you tell yourself. _After today, it won’t ever just be the two of us. We’ll never have this again. He needs one more romp without responsibilities._

You can give that to him. You can give him his favorite thing: you. Unfiltered, unrestrained, untamed. You at the height of your arousal.

“Maybe I’m not being rough enough then,” you say in a low voice, straddling his waist. While he is naked, you are still fully clothed. He tries to reach for you, but you seize his wrists and pin them above his head, bringing your face close to his. “No touching.”

“Are you going to punish me?” John asks, eyes bright with excitement. His cock swells against your thigh and you lift yourself slightly so he can’t enjoy the friction. His smirk turns into a small pout.

“Why? Should I?” you ask, closing one of the handcuffs around his wrist. You loop the other through the non-broken part of the headboard and seize his other wrist. With another click, he’s stretched out and secured underneath you.

“Ohh, you should, mistress,” John purrs. “I’ve been very naughty.”

“I’ve heard,” you respond, climbing off of him. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to touch you until you’re begging for release. And then I’m going to ride you.” You start to peel off your own layers of clothing.

John moans. “Yes,” he hisses excitedly.

You pause your movements. “Yes _what_?”

“Yes, mistress.”

“Good boy.”

John hungrily watching you undress, his tongue coming out to wet his dry lips. He’s already hard and you can’t help but eye his swollen cock with appreciation. He notices immediately and his confident grin makes a reappearance.

“Is mistress pleased with what she sees?” he asks.

“Oh very much so, pet,” you coo, climbing back onto the bed. This time when you straddle him, there is no clothing between you. You crawl up his body, placing harsh kisses and nips up his chest and to his neck. Grabbing his chin roughly, you turn his face to the side and bite down on the spot where his neck meets his shoulder. The gasp and groan that follow are enough to fuel your own desire. As you feast on his neck, you slide your hand down between your bodies and grasp his erection roughly. He’s not expecting you to be so direct. Usually when you play this game, you tease him mercilessly. But you’re not in the mood for teasing. You’re in the mood for giving him as much pleasure as you possibly can.

“Oh, mistress,” John moans, arching into your touch. “Thank you.”

“See, you think you’ve been naughty,” you tell him, hot breath ghosting across his ear. Your tongue snakes out to give the shell a flick and he shudders. “But you’ve actually been a good boy for me. I think you deserve a reward.”

John stills a little under you. His hips are still twitching, moving along with your hand almost on their own. You draw your face away slightly so he can turn to look at you. He realizes the change in the game and he’s curious about it. He wants to ask you why. You can see it in his eyes. Instead he leans forward for a kiss, pausing when he realizes you never gave him permission for one.

Pressing your forehead against his, you slide his cock into you with a few small pumps of your hips. Fuck waiting for him to beg. His eyes widen in surprise and his mouth forms a perfect ‘O’. That’s when you steal the kiss he so desperately wants. With one hand pressed to the bed to hold you up, you use the other to grab a handful of his hair, forcing him to remain kissing you. Not that he seems to be planning to stop any time soon.

You ride him that way for awhile. You keep your pace slow, rising and falling on his lap steadily. The handcuffs jingle as John tries to adjust his wrists. Or he’s trying to touch you. Either way he’s powerless to do anything than lay underneath you, completely at your mercy.

John mumbles your real name in between kisses. He’s done with the game. You both are. You sit up all the way, bracing both hands on his chest as you start to move faster. John moans are frequent and loud. His hips snap up to meet yours every time you come down, burying himself deeply into your hot body. You let go of your insecurities and let your own moans fills the room.

“How close are you?” you gasp, feeling your own release coming quickly.

“Bloody...barely...holding...back…” John grinds out between clenched teeth.

“Don’t, John,” you groan. “Don’t hold back, baby. Come for me.”

“Hands.”

You mutter the Latin words needed and hear the sound of the handcuffs falling away. John sits up, one arm wrapping around your waist as his free hand dives in between your sweat covered bodies. You fling your arms around his neck and kiss him desperately. His thumb rubs your clit furiously and you come just as he does seconds later, drenching his lap and calling his name. He calls your name too, pumping himself in and out of you until he’s completely spent.

You’re both shaking violently. But neither of you wants to let go of the other. Your face is buried in his neck, your chest moving rapidly with his.

Eventually he pulls you backwards to lay down with him, fumbling around for a minute until he can get a good grip on the comforter and pull it over the both of you. Once the shaking subsides, you draw away to look at him. He’s sound asleep, a soft smile still on his face.

Carefully, you ease out of bed. You need to call the doctor. You need to know for sure before you tell John what’s going on. He’s going to ask when he wakes up and you’d like to have an answer for him.  

After cleaning yourself up and getting dressed, you slip out of the bedroom in search of the phone. You find it in the living room on John’s work table. Your hands are trembling so much you have to dial your doctor’s number three times before you get it right. The receptionist answers and you temporarily lose your voice.

“Um, yeah, hi,” you say awkwardly, eyes trained on the upper level to watch for John. “I need an appointment. I, um, think I’m pregnant.”

“Did you take a pregnancy test?” the woman asks.

“Yeah, and it was positive,” you say. “And that’s never happened before.”

“Okay, when was your last period, sweetie?”

Fuck if you know.

“Uh...it was…”

When was it? You scrunch your face as you try to recall. You remember the struggle when it had first happened, though you wish you didn’t. The last time you clearly remember having it was around the time John got his first carving. You remember because he claimed your cramps were worse than being actually stabbed.

Wait, that can’t be right. That would mean…

“Miss?”

“Um, funny story,” you say. “It’s probably been around five--”

“Weeks. Okay, that’s--”

“No, not weeks,” you cut her off. “Months.”

“Wait, are you saying you think you’re five months pregnant?” the woman asks, clearly shocked.

“I’ve been away.”

“Okay, you need to come in immediately,” the woman orders. “How soon can you get here?”

“I’ll be there in fifteen,” you tell her. You hang up the phone.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you walk over to the mirror over the fireplace and lift up your shirt. You don’t really see a bump. But it very well could be you’re late to show. Most women are for their first pregnancy and you vaguely remember that being the case in Heaven.

Suddenly it all makes sense. The fainting, the nightmares, the cramping, the nausea. The First's curious looks. All of it. Even down to the funny feeling in your stomach when Zed looked at you.

As if on cue, you feel it again. It’s like tiny bubbles are popping inside of you. What you mistook for nervousness and distress was actually movement.

“Okay, it’s okay,” you tell yourself. “It’ll be okay.”

You need cash for the appointment so you run back to your room. John is muttering in his sleep. Another nightmare. Temporarily sidetracked, you kneel in front of him.

“John, baby, wake up,” you whisper. “You’re having a nightmare.”

He jerks away violently. “Lola, why are you dressed?” he mumbles. His eyes are barely open, meaning he’s still half-asleep and out of it.

“I need to run an errand,” you tell him. “I’ll be back soon.”

“I’ll come with,” he tries to insist, but he can barely move and he’s shaking from the rush of adrenaline.

“No, no, stay,” you say. “Sleep.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” you lean forward to place a kiss on his forehead. “I’ll be back soon. I love you.”

“Love you too,” John mumbles before promptly passing out.

You smile fondly and give him another kiss before getting to your feet. You grab whatever cash is in your bedside table and quietly leave. When you get into your car, you need to take a moment to process what’s happening.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” you ask, turning to look at Zed.

She smiles softly from the passenger seat. “Wasn’t sure, only had a hunch.”

“This is insane,” you say. “God, this baby was conceived in Hell. That can’t be good, right? I don’t even know if--” You don’t finish your thought. Instead you turn to Zed. “Will you be at the doctor with me?”

She smiles wider. “Of course,” she says. “I wasn’t meant to be just _your_ guardian angel, you know.”

You didn’t know. But it’s certainly comforting.

You take a deep breath and then start the car. “Here goes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Just to put things in perspective, this part has been planned basically since Darkness Falls. A lot of the remaining fics were planned way back then. It's fun to finally be able to write and share it with you guys!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for updates and funny stuff: ladyfogg.tumblr.com
> 
> Coming Up Next:
> 
> The Edge (M) - You’ve been missing for three months, and despite all the signs saying you ran, John doesn’t believe any of them. With the help of Chas and Renee, he starts to piece together your whereabouts after your return from Hell. Meanwhile, you try to get a message to John to let him know what’s happened.


End file.
